


Interlude

by moroiulmeu



Series: Amadeus: Lost Scenes Series [6]
Category: Amadeus (1984)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-08 23:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20985371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moroiulmeu/pseuds/moroiulmeu
Summary: This is set during Mozart's recovery, a little before Nachtmusik. Mozart is overthinking, again.





	Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> This could have had a better title. It could have. But it doesn't.

Mozart sat slumped in an armchair in Salieri's study, he was thrilled that he was finally allowed to move around the house. He was still weak, still unable to stomach heavy food, still under Salieri's watchful gaze and subject to Constanze and Nannerl's doting. At least here in the chair he could listen to Salieri compose and work, though he was often shooed back to bed at the expected arrival of students. Salieri insisted that Mozart was in no condition to be seen or entertain.  
He pulled Salieri's robe around him a little better and listened sleepily to the sounds of Salieri's fingers dancing along the keys of the piano. It was as though the notes brushed along his skin, caressing, promising, folding around him securely. The sound of the fireplace was the only other noise and it was enough to let Mozart slip into a peaceful doze, cozy, happy, safe, loved. Sensations he felt almost a stranger to before.  
"Mio caro lupo..."  
Salieri approached the chair hesitantly. It was not the first time Mozart had fallen asleep sitting there, and it pleased Salieri immensely that he was even comfortable enough to do so, but he was anxious at waking the small blond, uncertain if he would startle him needlessly.  
He brushed Mozart's hair back gently, kissing his forehead. To his amusement, and if he was being honest, his pleasure, Mozart merely curled up in the chair in a ball.  
"Carino... Fine. Sleep there, dolce lupo..."  
Salieri grabbed the blanket he had been keeping for Mozart on the couch and wrapped it around him, petting his hair back once more.  
"I will try not to wake you. Ti amo..."

Mozart frowned, he could hear voices talking quietly, discussing harmonic construction... The harmonic construction of what? He tried to shake the sleep off, it was still a difficult task sometimes. There was laughter, he recognized both voices, the first belonged to a young boy, one of Salieri's pupils he knew, and the other was Salieri himself. Mozart let the sound fill his senses, it was far stronger than any alcohol he had ever consumed. Light, warm, free.  
A small voice inside his head reminded him that it was nothing like his own.  
Mozart felt like he had been kicked in the gut and he tried to be quiet, feeling his heart sink, feeling, not for the first time, as though he had been shackled around the throat.  
He listened to the lesson for awhile, silently marveling over Salieri's abilities, he was not the harsh teacher Leopold had been, no, he was something very different. He was gentle, patient, stern when needed, but only when needed, he was not afraid of horsing around with his students or becoming their friend. He preferred to keep his lessons memorable in a way that took Mozart's breath right out of his body, in a way that was not the least bit frightening. There was never so much as a threat of slapped fingers. Salieri's students were thrilled with the sweet man who took the time to teach them, never charging them a cent, encouraging every work, correcting with soft tones and easy laughter. This, Mozart realized numbly, was Salieri's element, or at least one of them. Gone was the stern and serious Court Composer, entirely vanished from the easy demeanor of the music teacher that never discriminated among his students.  
Mozart felt his chest constricting tighter and tighter, his mind threatening to eat him alive, his thoughts growing ever darker. How could he have ever hoped to compete with the soul spilling light all over the place the moment is was allowed to?  
He didn't move even once the pupil had left, wondering what on earth he could possibly say or do. He could think of nothing.  
In his mind Salieri seemed like an angel, a dark, slightly homicidal at times angel, but an angel nonetheless, while he, Mozart, seemed like a braying donkey. He didn't even realize he was crying or that Salieri had moved until he felt Salieri's fingers in his hair.  
"Lupo..." Came the quiet chastising tone.  
Mozart's breath hitched even more, wondering how Salieri could touch him, let alone touch him so lovingly. The fingers slipped from his hair across his face, brushing away the tears.  
"What's on your mind?"  
"I'm sorry for being..." Mozart gestured from under the blankets, holding out his arms.  
Salieri looked completely confused.  
"W... What? I'm sorry, lupo, I'm not sure I follow you..."  
He knelt infront of Mozart, folding his arms over his legs and gazing up at him attentively.  
"I know I'm not... I'm loud, I'm brash, I have a filthy sense of humor, I know the laugh annoys people, I know it makes them uncomfortable, I know you hate-"  
Mozart nearly tipped the chair over backwards in surprise as Salieri's lips connected with his own, his deft fingers finding Mozart's waist and pulling him close. His mind went blank, blissfully silent, his only focus being the soft lips and the taste of sugar mixed with Salieri's own. The warmth spread through his body, causing him to relax into the embrace.  
"Shh..." Salieri murmured in his ear, "That's enough of that..."  
He placed several kisses along his jaw lightly, and Mozart was surprised he let out a whimper, his cold skin feeling like it was on fire where Salieri's lips had been seconds before.  
"Don't think me a fool, Wolfgang, I know exactly who and what you are... Does it look like it has detoured me for an instant?"  
Mozart was about to reply but his words were stolen straight from his mouth with another kiss, causing him to gasp.  
"Gently, mio amore... It is true I have been unsettled by your more nervous attributes, but do not think I don't love you just the same."  
Mozart felt more tears burn his eyes, but for a different reason now.  
"I understand you have been through much..." Salieri continued, holding him and speaking lowly, "I have heard the difference in your laughter, the softer tones when you are here with me versus the nervous noise when you are with others... I do not expect perfection from you. That would be cruel of me, though, quite frankly, I already find it within you."  
Mozart stopped breathing entirely, sitting very still, Salieri's words ringing in his ears.  
"I stepped into this relationship having no desire to change you, knowing who you were already. I ask, though I understand it may take time, for you to simply be yourself... Disruptive laughter included."  
Mozart choked on a sob and he felt Salieri's embrace tighten protectively.  
"It's alright... Take your time... I've got you..."  
Eventually Mozart slumped, cried out and exhausted.  
"I think it's back to bed for you, mio amore..."  
Mozart winced, the idea of being alone felt like a shadow looming over him.  
"Would you stay with me?" He blurted out.  
Salieri smiled warmly.  
"I'm not leaving you."

Not for the first time Mozart found himself enjoying how strong, secure and warm Salieri's wiry limbs felt wrapped around him. How soft the borrowed night clothes were, how luxurious the silk sheets. He had been stunned the first time he had felt it, he had not expected Salieri's quiet strength to be reflected physically, but even in his dazed and fevered state Mozart had noted that Salieri had lifted him into the air all to easily. To sleep here, like this, safe, snug, and accepted was something Mozart would have never thought he would have. He smiled sleepily, his lips, he fancied, still felt a little tingly and numb from the kiss in the study.

He awoke to the gentle sensation of Salieri's fingers tracing his jaw and a soft smile on the older composer's face.  
"Sorry, go back to sleep," Salieri whispered before he kissed the top of his head.  
"What time is it?"  
"No idea... Wolfgang, don't be angry with me, but I've taken the liberty of putting in a request. Later this afternoon I have asked my tailor to take your measurements and to find you suitable clothing, you can't continue drowning in mine forever. I require a winter coat and you, well, require frankly everything."  
Mozart gawked at him, slowly sitting up.  
"You really don't have-"  
"Hush," Salieri replied, kissing him on the lips, "Let me do this for you."  
Mozart bit his lip anxiously, "Thank you... What happened to your coat? Didn't you have one?"  
Salieri chuckled.  
"Well, I did, yes... I was in a bit of a hurry when you collapsed in the theater, I neglected to grab my effects. Someone got off with them, I'm afraid."  
"Why?" Mozart asked dumbly, feeling strange.  
Salieri's expression faded.  
"You were my first priority. Those idiots would have kept you lying there on the floor... Though I was not much better, I should have brought you here directly..." He sighed, "If I had perhaps you would be well by now... I was not thinking properly. I was disoriented, still feeling spiteful, selfish..."  
"You... Put me first?" Mozart asked faintly.  
Salieri frowned.  
"That's what you took from all of that? Yes, I did, lupo, but-"  
Mozart hugged him tightly, burying his face in Salieri's shoulder. Salieri sat there in surprise, his hands held awkwardly over the messy blond.  
"Lupo, please understand, it was for the wrong reasons..."  
"I don't give a damn what your reasons were," Mozart mumbled.  
"That's not how that works-"  
"I understand, and I know your reasons then and I know them now... I'm not an idiot..."  
"Wolfgang..."  
"No. Understand you're the first. Maybe it was for the wrong reasons, but... You didn't even think about yourself enough to worry if you would get sick, you got me out of there, you lied to me, knowing I wouldn't go if I knew the performance wasn't over, you got me home, and when that wasn't good enough you brought me here, you stayed with me all night, saved my life, you stopped doing it for the wrong reasons, and then... Now... You're doing all of this and I don't know what to do... I don't want... I..." Mozart trailed off incoherently, crying and Salieri sat there frozen.  
"What don't you want?" He asked gently, "Tell me and I'll fix it."  
"That's just it... I'm not a leech, I don't want to be, I don't want this to end badly, I want-"  
"Oh, lupo, hush... Listen to me... You're hardly a leech needing clothes, food, and a warm place to stay after I nearly got you killed... Please put that in context. I have no desire for this to end either, but I do want us to be on even ground and I want to move forward with neither of us acting out of guilt or other negative emotions. I love you, let me take care of you. You're far too upset... Calm down..."  
They were quiet for awhile, Mozart slowly relaxing as Salieri carded his hair.  
"Do you think it would get me killed if I tried another shot of that opera?" Mozart asked eventually, "I'd like to conduct the entire thing."  
Salieri winced.  
"I am more than certain. it is best to, what is the expression? Non destare il cane che dorme... Wolfgang, I nearly had a heart attack watching you drop the first time, I nearly lost you, please don't do it again."  
"Okay... But only because you asked."

Mozart stood there awkwardly as he was measured, he had always hated this process, and although he was a fan of fancy clothing, often in loud garish colors, he found himself reluctant to do anything but the bare minimum.  
He glanced at Salieri, who stood to the side watching with some amusement, his arms crossed.  
When the tailor started to ask what it was Mozart wanted Salieri cut in smoothly.  
"Allow me to speak, please, I do not think Herr Mozart quite understands the intention."  
Mozart blinked several times in shock as the tailor instead turned his attention to Salieri. A strange feeling was knotting itself inside his chest as he listened to the two of them discuss the order. Salieri spared neither expense nor quality, nor even quantity when it came to him and it left him standing there dazed and confused. To his surprise Salieri didn't even hesitate with Mozart's preferred styles.  
He sat down in a chair heavily and starred at the floor until the tailor left.  
"There, it may be some time but at least we'll have you a decent wardrobe," Salieri mused with satisfaction.  
Mozart shifted his gaze to him.  
"It really is no bother, Wolfgang... I have a student coming up in about half an hour-"  
"I'll go back to the room then-"  
Salieri looked surprised.  
"If you are not feeling well..."  
"Isn't it better that I'm not seen? I'm sorry for yesterday, I didn't mean to."  
Salieri shrugged and gave him a smile.  
"Are you embarrassed to be seen here, mio caro lupo?"  
Mozart turned red.  
"Of course not! I-"  
"I'm teasing, I've never known you to be as serious as you've been the past few days... Wolfgang, I do not mind, you are staying here, as is your family, and I don't feel the need to hide you away like some filthy secret. My concern in asking you retire previously was based on your health and your health alone. I was going to ask if you wanted to join me..."  
Mozart felt his breath catch in his chest.  
"I'd love to..." he whispered.

Mozart's jaw was nearly on the floor in shock. He had been swept into the lesson as though his presence was the most natural thing in the world, Salieri gave his instruction and then warmly asked for Mozart's input. He was included in the jokes and the laughter and his heart skipped several times. Mozart himself had never been a hard teacher, but he had always been an awkward one. This, this was different. He had someone to keep his thoughts on track.  
The student Mozart had ment before, a Ludwig van Beethoven. The youth seemed to have just as much admiration for him as he did Salieri himself.  
"I feel like it can go higher in measure sixty-four," Beethoven mused.  
"How high are you thinking? C five? E five? H? C six?" Salieri asked, his voice climbing the register as he spoke. His voice reached its limit, which was far higher than Mozart would have guessed and cracked.  
Mozart choked on a laugh in surprise as Beethoven burst into a fit of giggles.  
"What the hell was that?" Mozart wheezed.  
"You think you can reach that?"  
"God no, I may be a tenor Maestro but I'm not that daring. C six? Good lord, don't tell me you could hit that at one time."  
Salieri smiled.  
"I'll never tell."

**Author's Note:**

> Carino = Cute, basically.  
Non destare il cane che dorme = The English version is more or less "Let sleeping dogs lie."


End file.
